


You Can Never Win Against the God of Time

by jane_dorne



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: (but only slightly implied), A battle is a battle, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Obviously violence, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_dorne/pseuds/jane_dorne
Summary: Laurent wakes up, in the past; rigth before the battle at Marlas that changed the course of his life forever.He is determined to save Auguste from his untimely death.
Relationships: Auguste & Laurent (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, have fun you guys!  
> (You most certainly will not, this is a sad fic that popped in my mind and I had to write so it doesn't keep me awake at night.)

Laurent woke up lazily, basking in the warmth of the bed. He felt content in a way he often did on mornings like these; waking next to his husband, knowing the first thing he would see was Damen. A small smile curled his lips as he rolled on his side and reached out for the other man. His hand met nothing but air and bed sheets, they weren’t even warm.

Laurent opened his eyes to find the other half of the bed empty. Worse, upon further inspection, the bed didn’t even look like it had been slept in. This was strange. He remembered very distinctly falling asleep in his husband’s arms the previous evening.

His fuzzy brain took a while longer to take in his surroundings and realize this was not his bedchamber. The room seemed vaguely familiar but it was not _his_. Laurent was suddenly wide awake. He had woken up in a different room than the one he had fallen asleep in without his husband by his side. His brain immediately jumped to the worst case scenarios. Could he have been kidnapped? By whom? How?

Laurent examined the room more closely. It was fit to accommodate a prince. Whoever had put him here had at least taken his rank somewhat into consideration. What was perhaps even more surprising was the fact he was not bound. That seemed like a stupid mistake. Laurent planned to take advantage of this as soon as possible.

There was a window as well. Again, that was an overlook on his captors’ side. Laurent could use a window for a number of things. Starting with discovering where exactly he was being held captive.

He swung his feet out of the bed and got, immediately stumbling. He had to catch himself on the edge of the bed to avoid falling. The bed was significantly higher than he had expected it to be. Laurent frowned but kept walking resolutely towards the window.

His breath caught in his throat. There was an army outside. It surrounded the fort entirely. And it was unmistakably veretian. There were veretian flags everywhere. Except there was no Vere anymore. There hadn’t been for almost ten years now. Only Artes remained, the empire he and Damen had built by uniting their two kingdoms. What was the fuck going on here? Remembering his previous goal of figuring out where exactly _here_ was.

There were ruins in the field behind the army. They looked Artesian. Not the current Artes of course, but the one from before Akielos and Vere ever existed. He would recognize those specific landmarks anywhere.

This was Marlas. Except it couldn’t be. They had established their stronghold in the fort at Marlas. So it was impossible that Laurent could be here, in his own home, with an army at their gates and not been warned of this. Whoever had thought letting the King sleep in a strange room while on the brink of war would have serious problems in the future. As soon as Laurent figured out what the fuck was going on of course. He decided he should dress first. He couldn’t very well do this in sleeping clothes, could he? Speaking of, he couldn’t remember ever seeing this particular accoutrement, and certainly not going to sleep in it. Had someone changed his clothes while he slept? How could this have happened?

It occurred to Laurent that Damen could be in danger; he would never have let this happen.

The only clothes he could find where much more ornamented than he would usually wear but they would do for now. At least they fit.

Laurent was walking towards the door when he stopped in his tracks. When he turned his reflection stared back at him with an air of bewilderment. He raised his arm just to see if it would do the same. It did. That maybe seemed like the most impossible thing he had seen this morning.

Because in the mirror, a Laurent that was much too young stared back at him. If he had to guess he would say he was thirteen. As he looked down at his own body, Laurent noticed what he had not before, his mind too busy trying to understand what was happening. He was back in the body of his thirteen year old self. Gone were the muscles he had worked so hard to gain, gone were the marks puberty and age had left on his body.

A horn sounded outside. The realization hit Laurent like a horse going at full speed. Marlas, an army, himself, sixteen years too young... This was _Marlas_. Marlas during the war. Marlas, before the battle that had killed his brother, and ended the war.

Laurent ran. He stumbled down corridors and straicases in a body he was not used to anymore; trying to reach the courtyard where Auguste would certainly be before he left for the battlefield.

He ran into Jord instead. He almost didn’t recognize him. He was so _young_. Younger than Laurent had been when he had gone on border duty with Jord as his captain.

“Where’s Auguste?” he let out in a gasp, out of breath from all this running.

“His Highness left a few minutes ago, he charged me and Orlant to look after you while he’s gone.”

Too late. Laurent was too late to stop his brother from going to his death. Although if Auguste had just left, maybe Laurent could still keep him and Damen from fighting each other. That particular fight wasn’t supposed to happen for hours yet. He still had time. Time to save his brother. Time to thwart his uncle’s plans as well maybe. He needed to think.

Right, the archer. Paschal’s brother. The one that killed Aleron. That was a good starting point. Expose his uncle’s treachery; maybe call off the battle entirely in the process. Now, where could he find the archer? He scoured his brain for the archer’s name. Langren. That was his name. Alright, he could work with that.

“Jord. I need you to do something for me and I need you to do it without asking questions. Is that understood?”

Jord hesitated only a second before answering. “Of course, your Highness.”

“Have the archer Langren arrested and make sure no one gets close to him before I do.”

“I-“ Jord started before Laurent interrupted him.

“Now Jord.”

Jord hesitated a few moments longer before realizing arguing would be pointless. It annoyed Laurent, he was used to be obeyed. It wasn’t the guard’s fault, though. He was one of Auguste’s men, and a fairly new one at that. That probably played in Laurent’s interests actually; the older ones probably wouldn’t have obeyed him at all.

Orlant got to Laurent’s side just as Jord departed. The Prince paid him no mind and started walking.

*****

It was a desperate race against time on the battlefield. Laurent, Jord and Orlant cut a path through their enemies to reach Auguste but it was taking too long; fighting in a body that struggled to do what Laurent wanted it to be was much harder than he had expected.

He was determined though. He couldn’t fail. Not now. He couldn’t let Auguste die a second time. He would save his brother, no matter the cost.

He reached the circle of soldiers that had gathered around the two fighting princes. It was too late to avoid the fight, then. Well, he’d just have to stop it.

As the prince’s circled around each other, Laurent dismounted and took a step forward. They were talking but from where he was Laurent couldn’t hear what they were saying.

His eyes and Damen’s caught. He saw them widening in slow motion, saw the recognition there. This wasn’t Damianos, Crown Prince of Akielos. This was Damianos, King of Artes. Unmistakably. Laurent knew from the way Damen’s eyes warmed when he saw him.

But in his surprise, Damen was distracted. He faltered slightly. He made a mistake. Not a big one. No, this was a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of mistake. Most opponents wouldn’t even have noticed. But Auguste of Vere was not most opponents. He saw his enemy falter and he took the opportunity.

The world seemed to slow down around Laurent as he watched his brother’s sword break past Damen’s guard and plunge in his side. He saw blood blooming, the surprise in Damen’s eyes. He saw Damen fall to his knees, eyes never leaving Laurent’s.

A thousand unspoken words passed between them at that moment.

The light faded from his eyes and he fell, face forward in the bloodied mud of the battlefield. Dead. Dead, dead, _dead_.

There were screams and shouts around him. Cries of victory and howls of defeat.

Laurent couldn’t hear any of them through the ringing in his ears, the scream in his own head. He wouldn’t realize he had actually been screaming until much later, throat from it.

The scream tore through him like Auguste’s sword had torn through Damen’s body.

There were hands on him, holding him back. He tried to shake them off. He needed to reach him. To reach Damen. This couldn’t be happening. No, no, no, _no_.

There were hands on him, and he couldn’t shake them off. They hauled him back and away. Onto a horse and back to the fort. Probably. Laurent couldn’t think clearly enough to understand what was happening around him; too lost to his grief and pain and rage.

*****

Laurent was numb. He had spent the last few hours – night had fallen outside– in a grey nothingness he would be so very grateful for if only he could _feel_ anything.

There must be negotiations undergoing now that Akielos’ Crown Prince was dead. Laurent didn’t care. He knew he should. He knew he should make sure his uncle didn’t take profit of this but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He could hardly even think past the numbing buzzing in his ears.

Laurent stared at the wall, unseeing.

*****

The sun had started to rise again, a few rays dancing over the wall Laurent was staring at.

He registered faintly that there was movement at the door. He didn’t look away from the precise spot in the stone he had been looking at for hours upon hours.

Then Auguste was in front of him, blocking his view.

Emotions came back to him in a rush. A wave so strong he was overwhelmed by it like he had never been before.

He didn’t realize he had moved until he felt Auguste’s hands around his wrists, keeping him from hitting his brother.

Auguste was saying something but Laurent couldn’t hear him past the roaring of his thoughts.

He wanted to fall into his arms and be comforted. He wanted to enjoy being reunited with the brother he had lost so long ago.

He wanted to kill him. He wanted to wipe that concerned look on his face and replace it with one of pain. An old memory flashed before his eyes. Damen on the flogging post, reaching his breaking point. Except it was Auguste’s face instead, tumbling into unconsciousness at the unimaginable pain.

Auguste was before him and he loved him like the younger brother who had admired him all his life. And he hated him like the man who had killed his husband.

He hated him like he had hated Damen. He loved him like he had loved Damen, too.

Laurent felt like the first time he had kissed Damen; overwhelming hate and love twinning and twisting to rake at his insides and left him bleeding through so many gaping wounds he couldn’t even tell what hurt.

Laurent was staring at Auguste’s face and was seeing two men. The brother he had loved. The man who had killed Damen. He couldn’t align them in the same person. They blurred and transformed again and again.

He was shaking and he couldn’t stop. Auguste was shaking him too, shouting at him. Confused and not understanding what was happening.

“Get out,” Laurent managed to grit through his teeth.

Auguste did, if not right away.

*********

Laurent was left alone in his rooms once again, mourning. Mourning for the life he’d had. Mourning for the one he couldn’t.

Laurent was distantly aware of the irony of his situation. Ten years ago he would have done anything to go back in the past for this particular outcome. His enemy dead, his brother alive and well. Akielos defeated.

Now he thought about the years he wouldn’t ever have with Damen. He thought of the kingdom they built, that would never be born. He thought of all the hard work they had done to instate peace; all the reforms they had so carefully planned.

He thought of their adopted daughter and son, whom he would never get to see grow up.

He thought of growing old with his husband at his side, and their children and maybe even their grandchildren.

He thought the life that awaited him now. Of Auguste, King. Of how happy that should make him and how instead all he could think was how empty it would be.

There was a gaping hole in his chest. He didn’t think it would ever heal.

He wondered if this would be what broke him, finally. After everything that had happened to him, and had failed to destroy him. How he had risen after his brother’s death, how he had survived his uncle, how he had forgiven himself for the treachery of his own heart.

He thought of how pointless it all had been.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Auguste's POV on what happens after the events of the first part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's me again!  
> This was supposed to be a one-shot but some of you guys have been asking for a second part so this is me delivering. I'd like to warn you that this is not nearly as good as the first part though and it probably kinda ruins the impact of the first one, so you really don't need to read it. But that's your decision of course.  
> Anyways, enjoy (or not I guess)!

It took a whole week for Laurent to become somewhat responsive again after the battle of Marlas. Auguste was extremely worried about his little brother. He barely ate anything and if the reports he had gotten from the servants and guards were to be believed he spent his time either sleeping or staring at the walls.

Auguste had tried talking to him once but that had been such a debacle he hadn’t dared to try again. When Laurent had looked at him it had taken all of his self control not to flinch away from his brother’s look. There had been such pain in his eyes. Pain and hate. Hate that was directed at Auguste. He didn’t understand. Why was Laurent so affected by an enemy Prince’s death? Damianos and he had never even met!

But as sick with worry as Auguste was, he didn’t have much time for it. Laurent was physically okay and that would have to be enough for the time being. Auguste had a whole kingdom to worry about now. He was no longer Crown Prince Auguste. He was the King of Vere.

After Damianos’ death at the point of his sword and Aleron’s a few minutes later; Auguste had found himself King and had had to negotiate a peace treaty with the Akielon King. That had certainly not been fun. Especially since he had killed the man’s son and heir. Auguste thanked the gods every day for his uncle’s presence and help. It really was a blessing to have him around.

Auguste was in the middle of making preparations for their return to Arles when Jord arrived with news that Laurent had finally emerged from whatever comatose state he had been for the past week. Apparently he was up and about; currently in the middle of a ripping a few guards’ heads off for the death of a prisoner.

“What prisoner? What does he care about that?” he asked Jord.

“I don’t know, your Majesty. He had one of our archers arrested before the battle but apparently he the man died in his cell before His Highness could interrogate him.”

Auguste sighed. It would seem now was the time to face his brother again. Hopefully it would go better this time.

It didn’t. Laurent avoided all of his questions and refused to meet his eyes. But that wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was to see him in this state. He looked awful; he had dark circles under his eyes and had lost some weight, his golden hair hanging dully around his head. Laurent looked like a man defeated and eaten from the inside by grief.

Everyone else assumed this was due to his father’s demise during the battle but Auguste had seen his reaction at Damianos’ death. Somehow, this had to do with him. However insane and nonsensical that may be.

*****

Two months later, Auguste’s and Laurent’s relationship hasn’t improved. Auguste is increasingly worried about his little brother. While Laurent outwardly seems much better than he was after Marlas he had also shut down entirely. Auguste didn’t recognize him at all. He didn’t think he’d seen Laurent so much as smile in months. Or show any emotion at all for that matter. He had become cold and distant and immovable.

Nowadays he was more marble statue than thirteen years old boy. Their uncle was just as worried as Auguste and had tried reaching out to Laurent numerous times only to be rejected violently each time.

Worse, each time Auguste tried to talk to him, Laurent attempted to convince him not to trust their uncle while refusing to explain why he thought the man was working against their best interests. Auguste didn’t understand where he had gotten such an idea. It certainly pained uncle a great deal. Auguste wished Laurent would stop breaking his heart every time he had the chance. He was the only family they had left, apart from each other; they needed to stay united.

Laurent disagreed with the principle so strongly he spent most of his time at court trying to undermine him and some members of the council. Guion in particular, was often victim of Laurent’s ire. Fortunately, most courtiers paid no mind to the rumours Laurent was constantly starting.

Still, the Council kept pushing Auguste to discipline his brother. He didn’t know what to do. He and uncle had tried everything but Laurent didn’t listen to anyone.

Auguste was starting to despair he would ever get his little brother back.

But he didn’t have nearly enough time as he would like to pour over the Laurent situation. His duties as King took up most of his time. The beginning of his reign was already quite unstable; the Council was constantly pushing back against his every decision and their foreign relations weren’t going much better. Peace with Akielos was tentative at best and foreign nations were looking for any vulnerabilities. In other words, the sharks were circling.

It didn’t help that his only heir had the terrible reputation of a cold blooded snake working against his own family. Not that they ever said that to Auguste’s face. They weren’t stupid.

Auguste hadn’t given up on his brother yet. Nor would he ever.

*****

In the end, his hand was forced. By the Council, by the court, by Laurent himself.

Laurent had staged an assassination attempt against their uncle. Neither the, thankfully unscathed, victim of the attack nor Auguste had wanted to believe it at first. Even the overwhelming evidence against him hadn’t convinced them. Surely there must be a mistake. Laurent was being set up, how could it be otherwise? He was only fourteen; there was no way he would do something like that, even with his apparent dislike for their uncle.

The Council hadn’t been so easily convinced, though; nor had the rest of the court. Auguste had no choice but to summon his brother to stand trial in front of the assembled court.

It was Guion who stepped forward to read the charges. “Prince Laurent of Vere, you stand today before trial for the charges of treason and attempted assassination of your uncle, Council member and Prince of Vere. Do you deny such charges?”

Laurent raised his gaze to meet Auguste’s gaze. He was in chains, despite Auguste’s reticence.

“I don’t deny the charges -” 

There were gasps and cries of outrage all around. The nobles were already murmuring to each other about the sentence.

Auguste felt cold all over. This made no sense. He searched Laurent’s gaze for answers, for a lie, for an explanation. His searching look was only met with unflinching blue.

Laurent raised his voice again and everyone quieted again.

“I don’t deny the charges of assassination. I do, however, deny those of treason.”

Auguste wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not by that statement. Laurent had just admitted to trying to kill their uncle.

Things only went downhill from there. Laurent didn’t try to defend himself at all. In fact, he spent the entire duration of the trial trying to prove that their uncle was a traitor who had paid soldiers to kill the King at Marlas. But he had no proof.

As the hours went on, more and more proof of Laurent’s treason to Vere and their family appeared. He had conspired against both Auguste and their uncle for months. Undermining Auguste’s rule at every turn. He had even gone so far as to collude with the Akielons so early as at Marlas. Auguste wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen himself how Laurent at reacted at Prince Damianos’ death

Each accusation and bit of evidence was met by denial on Laurent’s part, who kept saying their uncle was the one guilty of all charges

But after five hours of trial, even Auguste couldn’t believe him anymore. He couldn’t deny Laurent was guilty. He didn’t understand of this could have happened. Didn’t understand when the little brother who had idolized him for all their childhoods had turned so completely against him and Vere.

He wondered when exactly he had truly lost him. He had thought it was the battle at Marlas but if Laurent was already working with enemy forces at the time...

It didn’t make sense. Auguste couldn’t understand what he had missed. He searched his memories but couldn’t remember any change in his little brother before the final battle. Laurent had still been his loving brother then.

Auguste thought he needed to finally let go of the Laurent he remembered and see this one as the entirely different person he had become. The boy standing before him wasn’t his brother. Not anymore at least.

Eventually, Laurent was found guilty of treason and colluding with the enemy. It was the Council who decide on the sentence. It would normally befall Auguste, as King, but it was deemed best he didn’t have a hand in the decision. Auguste was thankful to his uncle for that. He didn’t think he could stomach it.

“The sentence is death,” Guion said, placing the black square of cloth on the sceptre.

Auguste expected horror and fear on Laurent’s face.

Instead, he laughed. It was an awful laugh. It tore through Laurent like an unstoppable wave, manic and so wrong Auguste flinched hard on his throne. This was the laugh of a madman.

Laurent was still laughing, shaking with it, when Auguste forced himself to watch as the sword made a shining, terrible arc and separated his head from his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry. I swear I wanted a happy (-er) ending for this fic but I this one wouldn't let go.   
> Now, I feel like you deserve some explanations about why it happened this way that just wouldn't have fit from Auguste's POV.  
> So firstoff, the Regent had a back up plan to kill Aleron (because of he did, that snake).  
> Secondly, he had the archer killed in the cells as well so he couldn't testify against him. This time there is no letter because he was arrested before writing it. So basically, there's no proof because whatever other soldier was charged to kill the king was killed afterwards too.  
> The Regent couldn't afford to leave any loose ends with Auguste alive and Laurent knowing the truth (which he knows because of the prisonner obviously).  
> So he spent the next months: a) winning Auguste over b) undermining Auguste c) framing Laurent for everything in usual Regent fashion.  
> Laurent, in the mean time: a) tried to convince Auguste to be wary of their uncle because he's obviously not gonna let his brother die too b) trying to find proof against Regent c) failing to gain influence at court because he's only thirteen to everyone else d) trying to deviate the Regent's plans and clean up his messes  
> And so, inevitably, Laurent failed and the Regent won because this time Laurent was completely alone in his endeavours, had litteraly no one to back him and the Regent was working much harder and faster against him. There was just no way he could win in this scenario despite his previous experience, simply because as a thirteen year old with no power or influence he couldn't have the upper hand.  
> Also, about Auguste, he really is a good brother and did his best (which was not necessarily visible in the fic) but he just was attacked and manipulated on both sides and with Laurent not quite able to forgive for killing Damen and not protecting and helping and believing him now, well, it couldn't end well.
> 
> (also, Auguste will be killed not that much time after and the Regent becomes King because that's the logical chain of events)
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading and huge thanks to all of you who gave kudos and commented on the first part, it really made my day!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I really am.  
> Thank you for reading nontheless.


End file.
